by Sarah Dunn
I was not a nice sight; believe what I tell you.
Butt-charred and troughed, thin as a rag,
Just like an econo-sized Kotex mini pad.
Serta Perfect Sleeper,
Sealy Posturepedic,
Sterns and Foster, Springmade—their purpose I don’t see it.
I won’t dial toll-free MATTRES,
I won’t shell out the bucks.
I’ll stick with my free futon—
I don’t care if it sucks.
It’s more than just a bed now;
It’s cat box, couch, and more—
It’s hardened foam,
My house and home,
For countless hours a-slept on.
LIVING WITH YOUR PARENTS
WHEN YOUR HOUSE IS, UH, YOUR HOME:
While it’s true that living with your parents smacks of the pathetic, sometimes you just have to suck it up for a while and avail yourself of the amenities of home. No one needs to tell you that your feeble attempts to put a roof over your head will never amount to what can be had, virtually for free, within your parents’ home. Dishwasher. Garbage disposal. Non-coin-operated washer and dryer. Ice maker.
That said, moving in with your parents should always be regarded as a short-term solution for what will essentially be a lifelong problem. There’s nothing wrong with a little temporary economic asylum, but you don’t want to turn into a thirty-year-old failed novelist working on a spec script for Saved by the Bell while your aging parents cheer you on.
If you do end up back at home for a while, it can help to think of the situation as simply “squatting your old bedroom”: living on, rent free, while doing your best to avert local hostilities and avoid getting thrown out on the street. You’ll spend a few relaxing months unearthing old Star Wars figurines from boxes in the basement and scanning the sex ads in the local free newspaper. When your parents realize you haven’t been polishing up those cover letters like you promised, they’ll wise up and make you start paying rent.
In order to make a long-term go of it at home, you must be entangled in just the right web of family dysfunction, where, say, your codependent mother, desperate to avoid spending her golden years cooped up with your boozing, emotionally unavailable father, makes your bed and irons your underwear and hands you money in order to make you stay on. But be forewarned: Even in this best case scenario you might be forced, periodically, to do some yard work. For the rest of us—those who weren’t blessed when God was doling out toxic nuclear families—residing at home can quickly come dangerously close to a living hell. When this happens, you have but one option: find an eighteen-hour-a-week job and a $175-a-month room in a house spilling over with like-minded slackers.
(Try to steal some furniture on your way out.)
THE COOL PARENT EQUATION
UNFORTUNATELY IT’S NOT ALWAYS CLEAR WHETHER OR NOT IT WILL BE TO YOUR ADVANTAGE TO MOVE IN WITH YOUR PARENTS. THE COOL PARENT EQUATION WAS DESIGNED TO HELP YOU IN YOUR DECISION MAKING, TO TAKE YOU BEYOND A CRASS FINANCIAL ANALYSIS AND INTO THE REALM OF IMPORTANT QUALITY-OF-LIFE INTANGIBLES. CALIBRATE YOUR ESTIMATES ON THE BASIS OF A TYPICAL MONTH IN YOUR PARENTS’ HOUSE (ASTRONOMICAL MEASUREMENTS SHOULD BE IN KILOMETERS).
THE ABCS OF SQUATING
SQUATTING IS A RATHER EXTREME SOLUTION TO THE RENT PROBLEM, AND ONE THAT IS USUALLY MORE TROUBLE THAN IT’S WORTH. PASSING OUT FLIERS ON STREET CORNERS FOR RENT MONEY IS MUCH EASIER THAN, SAY, REHABILITING ABANDONED BUILDINGS WITH JUNK SCAVENGED FROM CONSTRUCTION SITES AND DIVING INTO KENTUCKY FRIED CHICKEN DUMPSTERS FOR YOUR SUPPER EACH NIGHT. IF YOU END UP SQUATTING FOR MORE THAN A COUPLE OF MONTHS YOU’LL BEGIN TO RESEMBLE YOUR ACQUAINTANCES IN THE LUNATIC FRINGE, TAKING THOSE TEENAGE ANARCHIST LEANINGS A BIT TOO SERIOUSLY AND SURRENDERING INTIMATE TERRAIN IN YOUR LOSING BATTLE WITH SCABIES AND BODY LICE.
THAT SAID, AND WITH THE FURTHER DISCLAIMER THAT SQUATTING IS STILL ILLEGAL IN THE UNITED STATES AND THE FOLLOWING IS INTENDED FOR INFORMATIONAL PURPOSES ONLY, THIS IS MORE OR LESS HOW YOU DO IT:
FIND A BUILDING: Look for a building that is clearly abandoned—totally boarded up, with no real estate sign out front—yet looks like it could be made “livable.” Check out the inside and then take some time to feel out the neighbors. Do your best to convince them that you’re responsible, if not exactly law-abiding, citizens and that it would be to their advantage to have you inside that house instead of a passel of crack-head degenerates.
CHECK OUT THE TAX SITUATION: TAKE THE ADDRESS TO THE TAX RECORD OFFICE TO FIND OUT ITS CURRENT STATUS. IF IT’S OWNED BY THE GOVERNMENT OR THERE ARE MORE THAN $1,000 OF BACK TAXES OWED ON THE PROPERTY, IT’S PROBABLY A GOOD PROSPECT.
MOVE IN AND FIX IT UP: You’ll want to squat with a group of like-minded people, because it makes it safer and you have more hands to help with the physical labor. First you should secure the building with good locks, clean it up, and do some basic weatherproofing. Then figure out a way to scam some utility hookups, belly up to the soup kitchen door, and panhandle for drug and alcohol research.
DUMPSTER DIVING
DUMPSTER LIVINGIINVOLVES CLIMBING INTO A GARBAGE DUMPSTER AND SCROUNGING AROUND INSIDE IT FOR THINGS YOU CAN EITHER USE YOURSELF OR RESELL. WEAR STURDY BOOTS AND YOUR WORST CLOTHES, AND BRING A LONG STICK WITH WHICH TO POKE ANYTHING THAT LOOKS LIKE IT MIGHT HAVE ONCE BEEN ATTACHED TO A HUMAN BODY.
TRASH PICKINGIS LOW-IMPACT DUMPSTER DIVING, LIMITED TO CITIES AND TOWNS IN WHICH BAGS OF GARBAGE ARE PROPPED AGAINST THE CURB ON TRASH DAY. THE TRASH PICKER FORAGES FOR DISTINCTIVE CURBSIDE ACQUISITIONS WHILE WALKING TO AND FROM HIS HOME, STOPPING TO PEEK INSIDE A PROMISING BAG WHILE GOING ABOUT HIS ORDINARY BUSINESS. (IN THE RIGHT NEIGHBORHOOD, A CHARRED POTHOLDER WON’T LAST ON A CURB FOR MORE THAN FIFTEEN MINUTES.)
FREE FOOD IN THE MAIL
“HELLO, JIFFY? YES, WELL, I JUST WANTED TO SAY THAT MY HUSBAND AND I ARE LONGTIME USERS OF YOUR PRODUCT… YOU’RE WELCOME, YEAH, WE’VE BEEN USING IT FOR A LONG TIME, AND WE LIKE THE SMOOTH KIND BECAUSE WE HAVE A SMALL CHILD AND WE’RE VERY SENSITIVE ABOUT THINGS LIKE THAT
…WELL, I OPENED UP THE PEANUT BUTTER AND ABOUT HALFWAY DOWN THERE WAS THIS BLACK THING, THIS LITTLE HARD BLACK THING… MAYBE IT WAS A BURNED PEANUT, ICOULDN’T TELL, I THREW THE WHOLE THING AWAY… NO, I KNOW IT DIDN’T COME FROM ANYWHERE IN MY HOUSEHOLD, I’M A GOOD HOUSEKEEPER, BELIEVE ME, IT WAS IN YOUR PEANUT BUTTER… OF COURSE, WELL, THANK YOU VERY MUCH, YOU’VE BEEN VERY KIND, AND LIKE
I SAID, WE’RE LIFELONG CUSTOMERS… HI, PREGO? YEAH, IJUST THOUGHT YOU OUGHT TO KNOW THAT IFOUND SOMETHING REALLY GROSS LAST NIGHT IN A JAR OF YOUR MEAT SAUCE.…”
DO FERRETS STINK? HOUSE PETS AS SURROGATE CHILDREN
THERE WILL COME A TIME IN YOUR LIFE WHEN YOU WILL HAVE TO FIND A SATISFACTORY ANSWER TO THE ENDURING QUESTION: “IF I MOVE TO PRAGUE, WHO’S GOING TO TAKE CARE OF MY CAT?” INDEED, ASSUMING LONG-TERM CUSTODY OF A HOUSE PET IS PROBABLY THE CLOSEST YOU’LL EVER GET TO BONA FIDE RESPONSIBILITY. AS SUCH, IT IS A DECISION THAT SHOULD NOT BE MADE HASTILY. FOR SOME OF YOUR PEERS, THE PET-OWNING IMPULSE IS NOT UNLIKE THE FORCE THAT COMPELS THIRTEEN-YEAR-OLD GIRLS TO KEEP THEIR BABIES—THEY WANT TO HAVE SOMETHING TO CARE FOR AND TO LOVE. FOR OTHERS, THE PET-OWNING IMPULSE IS AKIN TO THE FORCE THAT COMPELS THIRTEEN-YEAR-OLD GIRLS TO CONCEIVE THOSE BABIES—IT SEEMS LIKE A GOOD IDEA AT THE TIME. EITHER WAY, THE PET MUST BE FED, WATCHED OVER, AND KEPT HEALTHY, OFTEN AT CONSIDERABLE COST. (ODDLY ENOUGH, MOST SLACK PETS HAVE SOME SORT OF DISABILITY, BE IT MENTAL OR PHYSICAL, THAT WOULD CAUSE AN INDIVIDUAL WITH MORE “TRADITIONAL” AMERICAN VALUES TO BREEZE RIGHT PAST IT AT THE POUND AND PERMIT IT TO BE EUTHANIZED WITHOUT A SECOND THOUGHT. FOR INSTANCE, THREE-LEGGED DOGS ARE CURRENTLY IN VOGUE, BUT MENTALLY RETARDED CATS, ONE-EYED FERRETS, AND EMOTIONALLY CHALLENGED GOLDFISH ARE ALSO POPULAR SLACK PETS. THE BURNING QUESTION—UH, DID YOUR CAT COME WITHOUT THAT LEG?—IS, QUITE OFTEN, A DIFFICULT ONE TO ASK.)
HOW TO MAKE HALLUCINOGENIC DRUGS FROM SIMPLE HOUSEHOLD CHEMICALS
Ha! just kidding.
SLACKER SORIETY
TOP 10 CITIES TO SLACK I
N
WHAT IS IT THAT MAKES ONE TOWN A VERITABLE HOTBED OF SLACKERS WHILE A NEIGHBORING BURGH IS HOME INSTEAD TO COUNTLESS RESPONSIBLE TAX-PAYING CITIZENS? DUMB LUCK?
Perhaps. But there are a few definable factors that make a city hospitable to the urban nomad, namely: pockets boasting affordable rents, a vibrant local art and music scene, and a service-industry economy anxious to chew up tender young college graduates. Midwestern cities that boast both the state capitol and a state university are prime slack locales, as the convergence of conservative politics and liberal academics often results in freaks spewing forth from the woodwork. And then of course there are the intangibles: an atmosphere of tolerance higher than the regional average, a thriving alternative culture, and a reputation as a painless place to live.
1. Austin, Texas
2. Boston, Massachusetts
3. Chapel Hill, North Carolina
4. Lawrence, Kansas
5. Madison, Wisconsin
6. Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
7. Portland, Oregon
8. Providence, Rhode Island
9. San Francisco, California
10. Tempe, Arizona
The Unwritten Rules: Mastering Cafe Etiquette
A cafe is not a coffee shop. Nor is if a diner. It’s neither a sandwich place nor a quaint cappuccino-brewing patisserie where suburban ladies go to drink low-fat lattes and gab. It is actually a cross between a neighborhood bar and your very own living room, minus the eau de beer and the undergarments strewn artfully across the sofa.
Every cafe is governed by a set of inviolable rules known only to the initiated, not unlike those familiar to frequent visitors to your own home (Use the brown sock as a coaster; Don’t mention the smell). If you elect to hang out in a cafe yet choose to overlook any of the following rules, be advised that you do so at your peril:
DO -Tip the counterpeople, no matter how slow, rude, and/or obnoxious they happen to be.
DON’T -Wait for them to absent-mindedly shake the “Tips Are Much Appreciated” jar under your nose while you are fumbling with the zipper on your tiny Peruvian change purse.
DO-Feel free to eavesdrop on the conversations at neighboring tables.
DON’T -Talk loudly about how this place used to be cool until it was overrun with posers and idiots.
DO-Pet the dog.
DON’T -Regale your fellow cafe-goers with a list of the health regulations that are violated by the dog’s habit of sniffing the produce.
DO -Go ahead and brew a new pot of coffee if the supply is low.
DON’T -Ask for decaf.
DO -Read their newspaper in order to save money.
DON’T -Fill in the crossword puzzle without express written permission from the staff.
DO-Strike up a conversation with the antisocial loner methodically burning pages of his poetry in an ashtray at the table by the window.
DON’T -Let him follow you home.
13 Weighty Questions to Ponder While Sitting in a Cafe
1. IS THERE A GOD?
2. DO I EXIST?
3. IF SO, HOW COME?
4. WHAT IF I’M REALLY JUST A MINOR CHARACTER IN THAT CREEPY GUY OVER THERE’S DREAM?
5. THAT WOULD MEAN I COULD STOP WORRYING ABOUT PAYING MY RENT, RIGHT?
6. WHAT IS THE NATURE OF EVIL?
7. WHAT DO YOU SUPPOSE IS THE HALF-LIFE OF THIS HICKEY?
8. AM I BEING PARANOD, OR IS.MR. CREEPY GUY LOOKING AT ME?
9. IS THAT WOMAN BEHIND THE COUNTER WEARING A BRA?
10. SHOULD I GO AHEAD AND PIERCE MY GENITALS?
11. WAS THELMA REALLY A LESBIAN?
12. WHAT IF E DOESN’T EQUAL MC SQUARED?
13. IS THIS THE SAME CHEESECAKE THEY WERE SERVING YESTERDAY?
1. THE NIHILIST:
Wears a standard-issue black turtleneck, even in the dead of summer. Occasionally retires to the rest room for a lengthy visit, undoubtedly overcome by debilitating existential angst or the need for mind-altering drugs.
2. THE AGING HIPPIE:
Balding. Views the burgeoning cafe scene as an ideal way to pick up nubile young babes. Everyone secretly worries that they might wake up twenty years from now and be him.
3. THE GIRL WHO SITS FOR HOURS FLIPPING THROUGH OLD NEW YORKERS AND LOOKING BORED:
Williams grad. Smokes thin brown cigarettes. Can’t help but favorably compare her collection of unpublished stories to those she finds in the Magazine Of Record. Keeps a fabric-covered blank book filled with pithy observations tucked in her many-colored Guatemalan tote bag. Of course, she would never refer to it as a tote bag (“how hopelessly suburban”).
4. THE ETCHER:
Proud owner of a small, spiral-bound notebook filled with pen-and-ink drawings on acid-free paper. Asks attractive cafe-goers if he can attempt to sketch their likeness. Often seen handing out his business card to newfound friends (“artist/philosopher/caterer”).
5. THE DOG:
Wears a bandanna around his neck and smiles a lot. Whose dog is it? Who knows? Who cares? He’s the communal dog, and we know that because he licks the boneless free-range chicken breasts while they’re sitting on the counter and no one sees fit to complain.
6. THE POETESS: Long straight hair and glasses. Remains hopelessly in the grip of the Sylvia Plath complex that the rest of us outgrew in junior high. Gives vent to her neuroses in thoughtful, complex poems that she crafts in public because doing so makes her feet less alienated from the world at large.
7. THE WEASLY LITTLE GUY WHO’S ALWAYS TRYING TO BUM A CIGARETTE:Gets on everyone’s already overtaxed nerves.
8. THE CONSPIRACY THEORIST: Sports a dingy white undershirt and fatigues cut off at the knee. Tries to initiate conversations with other cafe-goers about JFK and UFOs. Their disinterest adds to his escalating feeling of alienation.
THE PERFORMANCE ARTIST: Asks people at neighboring tables if he can videotape them having sex.
THE FREELANCE GENIUS: Ruminates a lot, and complains about the coffee.
THE CREATIVE-LOOKING GUY WHOSE EXACT TALENT IS HARD TO PIN DOWN, EVEN FOR HIM: Busboy by night, singularly morose artist by day. Twentysomething, with long dark hair and an odd, sparse goatee. Feels an overwhelming need to express himself but hasn’t figured out just quite how.
THE GUY READING ZEN AND THE ART OF MOTORCYCLE MAINTENANCE. The cafe neophyte. Everyone stops at his table to tell him how good the book is, how it changed their lives, helped them make connections.
THE WRITER: Stares out the window at parked cars for inspiration, then hunches over her table and scribbles furiously. Stares out the window at the parked cars some more. Gets up to refill her coffee cup. Hurries back to her table and scribbles some more. Everyone else is trees intrigued.
THE MUSICIAN: Currently in search of a band. Spends time in the cafe scanning want ads and putting up fliers printed on pieces of paper that span the commercially available day-glo spectrum.
THE GUY WHO LIVES IN HIS VOLKSWAGEN BUG WITH THIRTEEN MANGY DOGS: Reeks, even after giving himself a spit bath in the cafe’s powder room. Nurses a single cup of coffee for hours.
THE TWO LADY SHOPPERS WHO WANDERED IN, ACCIDENTALLY: They chat. They chat loudly about things like clothing labels and vacation spots, oblivious to the hate beams emanating from the eyes of the neo-Marxist contingent assembling pita sandwiches behind the counter. Their thoughts, after scanning the crowd, can be summed up by the sentence “Do your mothers know you dress like this?”
Cafe Brain Teaser: THE SERIAL KILLERS
JUST HOW SICK AND TWISTED ARE YOUR SLACKER FRIENDS? FIND CUT BY GIVING THEM THE FOLLOWING QUIZ. SEE WHO CAN MATCH THE MOST SERIAL KILLERS TO THEIR CRIMES. AND THEN GIVE THE WINNER A WIDE BERTH.
(Bonus point: Which one of the killers is actually, technically, a mass murderer?)
THE KILLERS
1. Genene Jones
2. Albert DeSalvo
3. Richard Biegenwald
4. Aileen Wuornos
5. Jeffrey Dahmor
6. Carlt
on Gary
7. Coral Watts
8. Gary Heidnik
9. Edward Gein
10. Charles Manson
11. Dennis Nilsen
12. Ted Bundy
13. John Wayne Gacy
14. Richard Speck
15. Henry Lee Lucas
16. Arthur Shawcross
17. Wayne B. Williams
18. Kenneth Bianchi
19. Edmund J. Cody
20. David Berkowitz
Convicted of killing his ninth wife, Letha Gay, after her remains were found decomposing in the trunk of his car. Suspected of killing at least another four of his wives, while the remaining four are officially listed as “missing.”
The “Sunday Morning Slasher”; confessed to killing more than forty black women in Houston with a large knife.
The “Stocking Strangler”; killed nine prominent elderly women in their homes in Columbus, Georgia.
Infamous Milwaukee homosexual cannibal; confessed to seventeen murders.
Thought to be responsible for the Atlanta Child Murders. Convicted of killing one victim on circumstantial evidence, but some people think the real killer is still at large.
English homosexual necrophiliac; reported to have remarked that the weight of a severed head, when picked up by the hair, is far greater than one would imagine.